Raglan Road
by justatypicalfangirl
Summary: Lisbon receives a poem from Jane.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I meant to post this on Friday, but I had an important family wedding on Saturday (at which my uncle snuck me up to the bridal suite for some champange), and I only got home earlier today. The poem is Raglan Road by Patrick Cavanagh.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own The Mentalist or Raglan Road.

 _On Raglan Road of an Autumn day I saw her first and knew_

 _That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might someday rue_

 _I saw the danger and I passed along the enchanted way_

 _And I said "Let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day"_

Lisbon stared down at the slip of paper in her hand. She recognised Jane's handwriting. She had found the poem on her desk when she came in.

"It's by Patrick Cavanagh."

She jumped, startled "Jesus, Jane, how many times have I told you to knock first?"

Ignoring her question, he came in to the office and sat on her couch. He looked at her.

She sighed. "Fine, I'll bite. Who's Patrick Cavanagh?"

He smiled. "He's an Irish poet. The poem was later turned into a song by Luke Kelly, you should look it up sometime, it's nice."

She rolled her eyes, but motioned for him to continue.

"Anyways, the poem is about unrequited love. That's just the first verse."

She looked back down at the poem and smiled softly. They really were lovely words. "I don't understand. Why'd you give this to me?"

He shrugged. "Just thought they seemed appropriate."

She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but when she looked up, he was gone. Deciding she'd ask him tomorrow, she slipped the paper into her pocket and left the CBI with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Rosepeony came up with the genius idea of continuing this one verse at a time, so thank you! :)

For some reason, I really struggled with this verse, but hopefully you won't absolutely hate it.

Also, I'm trying to type this with a very sore broken finger, so sorry for any mistakes, this is taking forever to write.

 **Disclaimer:** If I owned The Mentalist, I probably wouldn't get into fights with my bedroom wall at one o'clock in the morning and loose miserably. But I don't own it, nor do I own Raglan Road.

 _ **On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge**_  
 _ **Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion's pledge,**_  
 _ **The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay -**_  
 _ **O I loved too much and by such and such is happiness thrown away.**_

He watched as she and Van Pelt walked down the street ahead of him. She had long since forgotten the poem he left in her office all those weeks ago. Unrequited love. What a miserable thing. For so long he believed it to be something exaggerated, something that only truly happened in books and movies. And then it happened to him.

Maybe it would be best if he just told her how he felt about her. Who knows, maybe she might feel the same way. Who was he kidding, of course she didn't feel the same way. He sighed in frustration. He had gone over this in his head so many times before. To tell her, or to keep his mouth shut. He just didn't want to blurt it out, and ruin their friendship. And last time he tried to subtly drop a hint, it just confused her. He gave her part of a poem about unrequited love, for crying out loud. How could she not get it?

At least this way, while he may be suffering, she was happy and, most importantly, still his best friend.

And at least they weren't working on a case right now, because he can't concentrate on anything but her and he knew it was just a matter of time before she and the rest of the team noticed. They had this job for a reason, after all.

He didn't like this feeling, didn't like having to watch from a distance. He hated to admit it, but it made him sad. That was the simplest way to put it. He only felt happy -truly happy- when he was with her.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This chapter was so much easier to write, thankfully. Now though, time for sleep.

 **Disclaimer:** Don't own The Mentalist or Raglan Road.

 _ **I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that's known**_  
 _ **To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone**_  
 _ **And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say.**_  
 _ **With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May**_

"Jane. A moment, please."

Jane "woke up" and stretched before smiling up at his superior.

"Hello, Lisbon. Is there a reason you decided to kick my poor couch, or did you just feel like it?"

She let the piece of paper she had been holding flutter down onto his stomach.

"Stop leaving peoms in my office." she ordered. "And..."

The rose was next to land.

"No more flowers. It's getting old, Jane."

He gaped at her as she walked away. He looked down at the scribbled verse. _How could anyone be so oblivious?_ The words "unrequited love" are mentioned, for God's sake! He thinks it might be an idea to have a chat with Hightower about how she got this far. God knows how she sloved cases before he came along if she was like this. He's going to have to try something diferent. He's tried subtlty, it didn't work. He tried glaringly obvious, that didn't work either. This woman will be the death of him.

He picked up the rose and sighed. Maybe if Lisbon had bothered to check her trusty friend Google, she would have known the meaning of it. A yellow rose with red tips. _Friendship, falling in love._

Maybe it would have suited better a couple of months ago, when he was actually falling in love with her. But that ship had sailed a long time ago. He'll get her a red rose tomorrow, he decides.

 _Red for love._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I started watching The Mentalist from the beginning and I've only just finished season 2, so as a result I've based this story (and a lot of others) back in them seasons with the CBI. Apologies if that annoys anyone.

I wasn't going to update this until tomorrow when I come back from the dentist (ugh) but yesterday was such an amazing day, I'm still in a great mood, so I thought, why not. I was at the Dublin Comic Con yesterday and then I went to Croke Park and my county team won, which means we're through to the semi-final. So, it was pretty awesome.

Thank you so much for all the reviews, they really make me happy. :) This is actually the last verse of the poem, but it's kinda sad, so I may have something extra to add on. ;)

 **Disclaimer:** Oh how I wish I did. But no. I don't own The Mentalist or Raglan Road.

 _ **On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now**_  
 _ **Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow**_  
 _ **That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay -**_  
 _ **When the angel woos the clay he'd lose his wings at the dawn of day.**_

"I love you."

For all the great plans he has come up with during his lifetime, all the spectacular ways he could announce his love for her, and he just blurts it out in the middle of an arguement.

At least it shut her up.

But he thinks he'd prefer her to still be shouting at him for walking into dangerous situations on his own than stood frozen in place, shocked and confused.

He was such an idiot.

He just ruined their friendship, he knows. Because if she loved him back, even the slightest bit, she wouldn't have just turned and fled, running down the emergency stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

He put his head in his hands. No way will she even stay in the same room with him for longer than absolutely neccesary, let alone allow their friendship to go back to the way it was. He'll go to Hightower first thing tomorrow morning and hand in his resignation. Maybe she'll let him stay at the CBI, just on another team. He'd like to stay near the team, they were like his family, and he knew no team would be the same as _their_ team, the wonderous SCU.

Hightower will probably take him off the team anyway once she finds out how he feels about Lisbon. Even though they weren't "romantically involved", she would still say his "judgement will be impaired" because he "has romantic feelings" for her. Which is all true, but still.

His feelings don't matter now though, he blew it.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** This is the final chapter! I'm sorry to finish this story, I really enjoyed writing it. :( That you so much for all the support you have given this story. You have no idea how much it means to me, I am so grateful for every favourite, follow and review. I hope you all enjoyed the story, and fingers crossed you enjoy the ending as well.

This verse isn't in the actual poem, but when I sing it (and I think Luke Kelly sings it like this too) I repeat the first verse.

 **Disclaimer:** It's my birthday in *checks calander* 14 days, but I don't think my sister loves me enough to get me The Mentalist. Sigh. I don't think I'll be getting Raglan Road either.

 _ **On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew**_  
 _ **That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;**_  
 _ **I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,**_  
 _ **And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.**_

The click of heels alerted Jane of someone's arrival. He listened closely. Lisbon. He mentally groaned. He was hoping he wouldn't see her before he talked to Hightower tomorrow -today, actually, it was almost half past twelve- because if he did, she would want to talk about earlier. For all the emotions and problems she bottled up, she was definitely confused and would want to clear everything up.

Keeping his eyes closed, he listened as she stopped in front of his couch. He almost fell off the couch as she kicked it to wake him up.

Not even bothering to pretend he had been sleeping, he sat up and allowed her to flop down beside him. There was a long silence in which Lisbon fiddled with the hem of her top.

"Did you mean it?"

Startled that she broke the silence, Jane looked up at her, though she avoided his gaze and kept focusing on her fingers. He considered playing dumb and asking what she meant, but he knew it wouldn't fall for it. So sighing deeply. he braced himself for a slap in the face.

"Yes."

Still staring at her fingers, she nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry." he continued.

She finally looked up. "What for?" she asked in surprise. See, he can apologise when he wants to.

He gestured to the room, unsure how to say it.

"For putting you in this situation. For freaking you out by telling you I love you. For loving you."

She hesitantly took his hand in hers. "Don't be sorry." she said softly. " _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have ran off like that when you told me. I just... I wasn't expecting you to say that. I needed time to think."

He looked at her. She had finally looked him in the eye, and in her emerald pools he could see...

 _Love._

Taking a leap of faith, he placed his hand on her cheek and brought her face to his.

Her lips were just as soft as he'd imagined, and he felt he was floating.

Breaking apart, he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.

She smiled back.

"I love you too."


End file.
